


A Kid in a Candy Store

by BlueBeanBlueBean9916



Series: Kiyoko's Corner [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi is beautiful, Bokuto has it bad, Kuroo is a great friend, M/M, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, akaashi works in a crystal shop, bokuto has self esteem issues, bokuto is dumb i love him, bokuto works in a candy store, bokutos family is great, kenma is sweet, kiyokos corner au, kuroo is also a bastard, mentioned kuroken, mentioned yakulev, smokin weed, vague mentions of kiyoko, vague mentions of noya, vague mentions of yaku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBeanBlueBean9916/pseuds/BlueBeanBlueBean9916
Summary: Bokuto meets Akaashi while working in his parents candy store. He then spends a whole ass year pining before actually talking to him. This is the story of that year.





	A Kid in a Candy Store

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, okay! I wrote this whole thing in like four days with no beta, but here it is! It's set in the Kiyoko's Corner universe, and the story starts a couple months before The Art of Acquiring Discount Coffee does. The story intersects a good few times, you might be a bit confused if you haven't already read the first fic in the series. I hope you enjoy!! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Bokuto still remembers the first time he saw him.

It was the dead of summer, hot gusts of August air pouring into the shop any time a customer opened the door. His father was out, picking up lunch from a nearby restaurant, and his mother was back in the kitchen. He could hear her humming to herself as she coated wafers in chocolate. 

The little bell over the door jingled. Bokuto stood from his place behind the counter, sitting the tray of truffles he’d yet to stock on the windowsill between the kitchen and the shop. 

Then he turned around.

Big mistake.

On the other side of the bar there stood what had to be the most beautiful boy in existence. 

His hair was a dark feathery mess, equally dark eyes staring out from beneath it. There was a little silver hoop going through his left eyebrow. A cigarette peeked through his hair from it’s place tucked behind his ear, baby blue geodes dangling from his lobes to match the one hung around his neck. His shirt was covered in little flower designs and cropped pretty damn high. Much like his jean shorts, which—true to their name—were _short_.

Bokuto tried to swallow, but suddenly his throat seemed very dry. So he settled on coughing, which devolved into something closer to choking. In the end, the only way he could manage to welcome the stranger was with a quick wave.

The man parted his lips to speak. Knowing he wasn’t prepared for that, Bokuto raised a finger into the air as if to say ‘give me a sec’ and darted into the kitchen. He gulped down a glass of water and tried his best to calm his mom when she started barraging him with questions about why he was in the back while they had a customer.

 _Okay, take two_.

Bokuto stepped out of the kitchen in what he hoped was a casual fashion and propped an elbow on the bar. Casually. 

“Hello. I was wondering what kind of lollipops you have?”

 _Jesus, is that seriously his voice? I mean, as if his looks weren’t enough, and not to mention the clothes. How am I supposed to serve someone this devastatingly beautiful? I guess I could ask mom to take him, but no, that would mean that I wouldn’t get to talk to him. And then he’d think I’m weird or that I’m judging him but I’m not! He’s just seriously too damn pretty, I don’t know if I can handle it! I mean, yeah, I have some reasonably attractive friends and I’ve served some reasonably attractive customers, but I didn’t wake up this morning knowing I would be talking to someone so_ un _reasonably attractive. How was I supposed to prepare? Take a class? Are there classes for this type of thing?_

“Um. Excuse me? Are you alright?”

Bokuto snapped his eyes up from where he’d been staring through the cash register and smiled. A casual smile.

“Of course, I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be? Anyway, what was it that you wanted?”

The man’s eyebrows knit before he spoke. “Lollipops?”

“Ah, lollipops, of course.”

Bokuto took a deep breath, gathered himself, and showed the angelic man their wide selection of lollipops. Maybe he prattled on about the different flavors for a bit too long, but who could blame him? Most of them were his own creations, concoctions that resulted in very happy accidents. And besides, it was all casual. Going into a five minute tangent about the fact that salted watermelon was an explosion of taste that the confectionary world needed to expand upon? Something you would hear in any normal, casual conversation.

Later, after what simultaneously felt like the longest ten minutes in Bokuto’s life and the blink of an eye, the angel was walking out the door. He carried a bag of three lollipops—soda, hot chocolate, and salted watermelon. The litter of thin metal bracelets adorning his arms jingled with every step. 

Bokuto watched him go out into the summer sun through the shop window. The angel bent down, re-tying the crissy-crossy laces of his platform sandals. Bokuto sighed. The man then pulled the cigarette from behind his ear, lit it, and pulled a pair of cat-eye sunglasses out of his back pocket. 

Just before walking out of sight, he looked into the window and shot Bokuto a peace sign, cigarette burning between his lips, sunglasses halfway on.

He was the hottest thing Bokuto had ever seen.

 

 

\-----

 

 

A week passed, and Bokuto hadn’t seen the stranger at all since their fateful meeting. He had begun to think he would never see him again.

“Maybe the lollipops were bad. Maybe salted watermelon isn’t his thing,” Bokuto sighed, cheek propped on his fist. He swirled his straw around, glumly listening to the ice click together in his coffee.

“No way, bro. You were probably just acting super weird and he got freaked out.” Bokuto responded to that with an even more pathetic face, and Kuroo sighed. 

“Come on, he could still come back! It’s only been a week! And besides, some people find your social ineptitude endearing. Maybe he’s one of those people?” Kuroo shot Bokuto a hopeful smile. Bokuto ignored him.

“Ugh, it’s no use! He’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and I’ll never see him again!” Bokuto folded his arms and slammed his face down on top of them, maybe tearing up a bit. Just a little.

“Dude, you gotta stop yelling in here, you’re gonna get me fired,” Kuroo lightly kicked his shin. “Also, don’t get snot on the table! People use these—oh, hey.”

Confused, Bokuto scrubbed his damp eyes on his sleeve and looked questioningly at Kuroo.

But Kuroo was looking at someone else.

And there, in Kiyoko’s Corner, in front of god and everybody, Bokuto saw him again.

Today he was wearing a simple yellow sundress and pale pink sneakers. There was a ribbon in his hair. Bokuto was sure that he was in love.

“Hello Kuroo. And hi again…” The angel looked to Bokuto, waiting.

“Bokuto! Bokuto Koutarou!” He held out a sweaty hand for the stranger to shake, and miraculously, he did. His hands were soft, and Bokuto noticed that his fingernails were painted purple.

“Akaashi Keiji. Wait, Bokuto? As in ‘Bokuto’s Confectionary’?” Akaashi cocked his head to the side. _So pretty_.

“Yeah! It was my great-grandfather’s business, oldest candy store in the city! I’ve been working there since I was a kid, and it’s just great, y’know? I mean, of course working at a young age kind of ate into my childhood innocence and made me grow up a little fast, but I think I still managed to have fun. Oh! Not to say that my parents did anything wrong by having me work there! I mean, I wanted to of course! And besides, grandma got sick and had to take time off and grandpa couldn’t handle the store _and_ take care of her. And maybe they could have handled it alone but I really wanted to work there! I was literally _a kid in a candy store_. It was awesome! Well, not to say that child labor laws aren’t important or anything but—”

“Bo!”

Bokuto saw the exasperated look on Kuroo’s face and began blushing furiously. He’d done it again. Akaashi was just looking at him, the slightest smile gracing his lips. He had to think Bokuto was the weirdest person alive.

“Anyway, here Akaashi. I got the balance issues worked out. And I drew a bangin’ design on the cover.” Kuroo reached into his bag and handed Akaashi what seemed to be a CD. 

“Thanks. See you later, Kuroo. Bokuto-san.” With a wave of his hand, Akaashi walked out of the shop as gracefully as ever. 

Bokuto groaned loudly and dropped his head back down to the tabletop.

“What’s your deal, man? I haven’t seen you malfunction like that since you met Kiyoko.”

Bokuto stared daggers at Kuroo, and dawning realization overtook the confusion on his face.

“Ohh. Shit, dude.” Kuroo patted Bokuto’s shoulder sympathetically.

_Shit dude indeed._

 

 

\-----

 

 

Bokuto started seeing Akaashi far more frequently. However, he didn’t stop making a fool of himself every time they met.

Most of the time, it was just in passing. It turned out that Akaashi worked in the crystal shop two doors down from the candy store. Bokuto would see him walking down the block, cigarette perpetually dangling from his lips, headphones on. Each time Bokuto saw him, he seemed even more beautiful than the last. 

Akaashi actually came into the shop once more, but Bokuto was in the back making gummies with his dad. He looked up from his work and saw Akaashi talking to his mom at the counter. Their eyes met for a second, and Bokuto promptly slipped and fell.

So Bokuto spent his days pining in the shop window, pretending to sweep the floor while he watched Akaashi hang crystal windchimes above the door to ‘Prismatic’ and eat his lunch alone outside the little burger place across the street. 

There were many occasions on which Bokuto considered going and talking to him, helping him decorate or asking to dine with him. However, Bokuto knew he would be way too nervous and probably freak him out. Besides, there was something so intimidating about Akaashi. He always seemed so confident, so put together. 

Bokuto prided himself on being pretty confident, but. He apparently wasn’t confident enough to actually approach Akaashi.

So summer turned to Fall, and Bokuto spent his mornings in class and his afternoons barely working—choosing instead to daydream by the window. Imagining the day when he’d have the guts to have a normal conversation with the unattainable dream-boy two doors down.

 

 

\-----

 

 

“Okay! That’s the last of the boxes!” Bokuto shouted, hearing Kuroo’s unintelligible response from Bokuto’s new bedroom.

Bokuto loved his parents, but when he decided not to live on campus anymore he knew he wouldn’t be staying with them forever. He still worked with them, he’d see them every day. But Kuroo was his best friend, he lived closer to the school, and he was a good time.

So, they split the bills down the middle, and Bokuto moved in October first.

“I’m gonna go get us a snack from the convenience store down the street, and then we can get to unpacking!” Bokuto clapped his hands, excited, and started digging through his backpack to find his wallet.

“WHAT?!”

Bokuto sighed. Poor deaf Kuroo. He’d been drumming without earplugs for far too long.

“BE RIGHT BACK!!! GETTING FOOD!!!” Bokuto yelled in reply.

“‘KAY!” Kuroo screamed back.

Bokuto chuckled as he locked the door. He could tell it was gonna be a blast living here. He started down the hall toward the elevator, a spring in his step.

“Oh, hello there Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto stopped dead in his tracks.

Akaashi was on his way to the elevator as well. He looked messy, but good? A pair of loose spongebob pajama pants hung low on his hips, tucked into fuzzy moccasins that were definitely slippers. His hair was a bit fluffier than usual, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and his black t-shirt was thin and full of holes. An unlit cigarette was held between his marker-stained fingers. 

Wait a minute. 

_Wait a minute._

“D-do you live here?!” Bokuto asked in a shrill voice. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

“Of course, I’m in my pajamas. Just going down for a smoke,” Akaashi wiggled his cigarette in the air and pressed the button for the ground floor.

Bokuto was starting to sweat. 

_Goddamn Kuroo, the bastard. Why would he do this to me? Why does he hate me? He has to know, right? They’re in a band together for chrissakes. Oh god, now he’s gonna think I’m a creepy stalker. There’s no way I can ride in an elevator with him. It’s just gonna be terrible awkward silence and he’s gonna call the police or beat me up or—_

“So, do you live here, then?” Akaashi asked, pulling Bokuto out of his daze.

“Yeah, I live here! And I was just heading out but, oh, you know what? I forgot my wallet!” Bokuto took a step back, laughed casually.

“Bokuto-san, your wallet is in your hand,” Akaashi said, looking concerned and weakly pointing to the wallet in question.

“My wallet?! Oh, no! I meant my money!” Bokuto’s voice was steadily rising in pitch, so he let out another laugh to smooth things over. “You know how it is! Sometimes you remember the wallet but forget the money! Haha! Sooo, yeah, I’m gonna go get that—my money—from my apartment! Where I live! Bye, Akaashi! Have a good night!” 

Bokuto practically ran down the hallway, barely getting his key into the lock before he tripped through the door. He ended up sprawled on the living room floor, smashing a few boxes in the process. He lay there a moment, knocked his head against a nearby box a couple times for good measure.

“KUROO! YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Bokuto hollered into the carpet.

“Surprise?” Kuroo said uncertainly from his place on the couch.

Bokuto hauled himself off the floor, grabbed a pillow, and chucked it into Kuroo’s face. Quickly enough, their argument devolved into a giggly pillow fight. They settled on instant mac and cheese for dinner, and even managed to unpack most of the boxes by midnight.

Bokuto settled into a routine. Put on his shoes. Grab his bag. 

Check the hallway for Akaashi.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Bokuto started tagging along to Kuroo’s shows. First, it was the Friday the 13th show, just because it was a big deal and Kuroo had been talking about it all month. It was a good time, and Kuroo’s boyfriend drunkenly said some really funny shit, so Bokuto didn’t give it a second thought when he agreed to go to their Halloween show. Or the one after that.

Seeing Akaashi on the stage was rough—his beauty was otherworldly on show nights—but Bokuto had more or less gotten used to it.

It was hard, but he saw Akaashi so much now—living with Kuroo and all—that he had to tamp down his feelings to avoid making a scene. His heart still raced, his hands still got clammy. But he just sat there quietly, tried not to talk too much but enough that he didn’t seem weird.

His longing to speak to Akaashi, to get to know him, lay dormant like an iceberg in his chest. 

The only people he ever talked to about it were Kuroo and Kenma. Kuroo, dumb jokes aside, always had some advice to give (that Bokuto usually ignored). And Kenma, though they didn’t really get along at first, was an excellent listener. They’d pile up on the couch every few days, get stoned, and talk about their issues. And if Bokuto talked the most out of the bunch, nobody complained about it.

By the end of Junior year, when everyone was cramming for finals and Rolling Thunder was starting to headline shows, Bokuto saw Akaashi practically every day. He even managed to make casual small-talk a few times without spacing out and internally berating himself for it.

Bokuto started hauling equipment for the band. He got paid in joints and sub sandwiches, but he loved it. He loved seeing them perform, and they were all friends. 

Noya was great. Kuroo was his best friend. Kenma was basically his unpaid therapist. Hell, he was even fond of Yaku and his gangly boyfriend.

And Akaashi.

Bokuto wished he could call Akaashi anything more than out of reach.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Summer came, and Bokuto threw himself into his work at the candy store.

He woke up early every morning, walked to the shop, made and sold the same candy as the day before, and went home. On the weekends he lugged amps and set up microphone stands and drum kits. He stayed for the shows. He skipped the after parties.

Nobody really said anything about it. Kuroo told him a couple times that he shouldn’t work so hard. Kenma sent a few meaningful glances his way.

But it was Bokuto’s job to carry on the shop. And besides, what self-respecting culinary student wouldn’t spend the summer cooking? He didn’t want to get rusty, that’s all.

Well, almost.

 

 

\-----

 

 

It was around noon, and Bokuto was bent over the stove cooking down sugar to make cherry lollipops. He added food coloring and continued to stir it slowly, using his free hand to search the cabinet overhead for the silicone molds.

“Son, lemme stir that pot. You shouldn’t be diggin’ around while you cook, you’re gonna burn yourself alive.” Bokuto’s father came up behind him, taking the spoon out of his hand and gently pushing him to the side.

“Dad, come on. I know how to multitask, I’ve been doing this since I was ten,” Bokuto grumbled. He pulled the correct molds from the cabinet—cherry shaped—and got out the little container of lollipop sticks.

“Koutarou, listen to me for a second,” his dad fixed him with a serious look, and Bokuto raised his hands in surrender before hoisting himself up to sit on the counter.

“I know you love working here. I know you want to take this place over someday, and that's great. But, you’re twenty-one! It’s summer break! No matter how much you like your job, there’s no reason for you to be slaving in here all day every day unless there’s something wrong. So, spill it. What’s bothering you.”

His father pointed the spoon he was stirring with accusingly at Bokuto and lifted the pot from the stove. Bokuto huffed a sigh and opened up the container of sticks, watching the thick syrup pour into the first mold. He popped a stick into its place on the tray.

“Honestly? I like someone. I see him every day, but I can never talk to him without looking like an idiot. He’s _so_ pretty, dad. I feel like I could never talk to him and actually be taken seriously.” Bokuto put a stick into the next lollipop.

“I know what that’s like. It took me two weeks to work up the nerve to have an actual conversation with your mother. She was beautiful, coming in here and buying candy for all the kids in her class. I was just some guy, gawking at her from behind the register. I stressed about it every day, wondering if I’d see her. Lost sleep over it…” He shook his head a little, continued to pour.

“But then I realized—nothing ever happens if you don’t take that first step. You might be nervous as hell, and you might make a few mistakes, but at least you’re doing _something_ about the way you feel. And, yeah, that first date went terribly. I spilled an entire beer down the front of her dress! I was so worried about seeming cool that I was twice as goofy as usual. But she just laughed! She wasn’t judging me nearly as hard as I was judging myself!” Bokuto’s father chuckled, and Bokuto found himself laughing along with him.

They continued to work in silence, filling tray after tray. Bokuto remained perched on the counter while his father cleaned the dishes, thinking.

“Y’know what? After work, I’m gonna go ask him out,” Bokuto said, smiling to himself. It felt so good to finally decide to do something.

“Kou, how long’ve you been pining over this boy?” His dad asked, drying his hands on a dish towel.

“Uh… ‘bout a year?” Bokuto couldn’t believe it had been that long, but they’d met in August, and it would be July pretty soon.

“Jesus christ, no wonder you’re workin’ like a maniac. Get outta here, kiddo. Your mom and I got this.”

His father was already starting the stove up to cook more sugar, but Bokuto ran up behind him anyway and gave him a hug.

“Thank you.” He pressed a quick kiss to his dad’s shoulder and darted off, untying his apron hurriedly and hanging it by the kitchen door.

He ran out into the hot summer air, the sound of his parents chuckling while they worked filtering through the door.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Bokuto stopped short in front of the crystal shop. Akaashi was already outside, smoking a cigarette on the bench near the door.

_Now or never._

Bokuto walked up and stood right in front of Akaashi. He looked very pretty today, of course. His romper was baby blue and littered with stars. His high tops were complemented with a pair of socks that had little candies sewn onto them. He had on those same sunglasses he was wearing the day they met.

He smiled at Bokuto, took out his pack, and offered him a cigarette.

“Care to join me, Bokuto-san?” He asked, patting the bench beside him.

“Sure. Can we talk?” Bokuto asked, sitting down at what he hoped was an acceptable distance.

“Of course,” Akaashi replied. He lit a cigarette for Bokuto and passed it to him. Bokuto took it with shaking fingers.

Bokuto smoked his cigarette, and the pair sat there for a second in silence. Eventually, Akaashi turned to look at him. Waiting.

“I want us to hang out. And I don’t mean with the guys. Just us. I was wondering… Are you free sometime this week? To maybe come hang out with me? Like on a date? To go on a date with me?” Bokuto chewed on his lip, flicking the ash off his cigarette a little too aggressively and almost breaking it in half.

Akaashi just stared at him for a second, his lips slowly stretching into a smile.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna write the date as a follow up story that I'll post later. It's probably gonna be realll long tbh. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading xo


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